


Memories Past

by alynwa



Series: The Dembe Tales [4]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Dembe's past is mentioned, but nothing explicit.  This is just to let you know that his sex slave past comes up in conversation.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Memories Past

**Author's Note:**

> Dembe's past is mentioned, but nothing explicit. This is just to let you know that his sex slave past comes up in conversation.

 

Dembe was sitting in the den of Red’s safe house in Barcelona sipping tea.  It was seven in the evening and he was enjoying the view of the Mediterranean off in the distance. He and Red, along with Mr. Kaplan, had been there since Red and Liz had fallen out a few months earlier.*  Red was fairly certain that Liz would need his assistance again and since he was usually right about these things, Dembe felt certain that their time in Spain would soon draw to a close and they would return to Washington, DC.

His benefactor and his right – hand woman were conducting business in Raymond’s office.  The residents of Barcelona, like most of Spain, slowed down in the middle of the day, the traditional “siesta” time and zoomed back to life in the late afternoon – early evening, so the two worked much later here and dinner was later still, sometimes as late as eleven. He had completed his tasks for the day and was taking advantage of the quiet to allow his mind to wander.  He looked around and marveled again at his life.  That thought caused him to close his eyes and recall some of his earliest times with Raymond.

_1994_

They were in England.  They had been there for six months now. Dembe’s life was one hundred eighty degrees from where it had been nine months earlier when a strange white man had entered the basement where he lay dying chained like an animal.  He still couldn’t believe that the man he came to know as Raymond had not only rescued him, but had killed the man who had held him as a sex slave for years.

At first, he didn’t know what to think.  He had taken a leap of faith and followed the man out the door into a new life. Raymond was so different from men he had known.  He had been six years old when the Mombasa Cartel killed his family and snatched him away to be sold into slavery.  He barely remembered his father and brothers, but he imagined that Raymond treated him like they used to treat him.

He had been living with Raymond about a month and a half when he approached the older man in an attempt to pleasure him.  He was shocked when Raymond gently, but firmly, told him he had no interest in him sexually. He was completely confused; since the age of six, that had been the only way to make men happy with him.  He didn’t _know_ any other way.  He had asked what he could do to make Raymond happy.  The answer he had gotten was simple: Learn and excel.

That was an easy request.  He loved learning. The teachers Raymond hired for him challenged his mind and Dembe worked hard.  At first, he pushed himself so that Raymond would not think him stupid and send him back to the life of a sex slave.  When he realized that Raymond didn’t see him as a slave, but rather, a member of his family, Dembe worked even harder to prove himself worthy.

For as long as he could remember, Dembe suffered from nightmares.  His earliest ones were about his family being murdered. As he got older, the dreams changed to reflect his horrible reality.  He used to wake up screaming and in pain because the overseers in the brothel would begin to beat him when he started to make too much noise.  To protect himself, he began tying a shirt around the lower part of his face so that the cloth would muffle his screams.  Most times it worked, but sometimes it didn’t.

He remembered the first time he had screamed himself awake while living with Red.  The dream had been terrifying; he was being held down and sexually assaulted by faceless men who were taunting him mercilessly while he fought in vain to get away. He felt like he was dying; a voice began calling him louder than the rest.  When the voice shouted louder, he opened his eyes to see Red, gun drawn and at his side, standing over him and staring.

“I could hear your screaming from the kitchen!  I thought someone had broken in and was attacking you,” he said as he holstered his weapon. He grabbed a chair, slid it close to the bed and sat.  “Do you want to talk about it, Dembe?” he asked gently.

He shook his head and gasped, “I don’t want to…It was about where you found me.  I’m alright, now. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“You are not a disturbance, Dembe.  If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit here until you fall asleep.”

“I would like that, Raymond.  Thank you.” He didn’t know why, but he believed Raymond would stay and that allowed him to relax and go back to sleep.  When he woke up the next morning, there was Raymond, snoring softly slumped down in the chair, socked feet on the foot of the bed.  At the time, he couldn’t identify the feelings that ran through him at the sight of his benefactor.  Years later, he realized that what he felt was relief, gratefulness and affection.

Red must have sensed eyes upon him because his opened.  They stared at each other for a few seconds before Red spoke. “Good morning, how are you feeling today?”

“Okay.”

“Very good.”  Red raised his arms and stretched like a cat, twisting and yawning mightily. “Dembe, I want you to know: You can speak to me about anything.  I want you to feel comfortable speaking to me, but I understand why you might find that difficult.  Therefore Monday, I am going to start interviewing potential therapists for you.”

Dembe’s eyes widened as he sat up quickly.  “Red, I am not crazy! I, I won’t scream anymore!  Don’t be angry!”

“Dembe, Dembe, I’m not angry.  I’m concerned about you. I cannot _begin_ to imagine the horrors you have lived through.   I need you to be healthy; physically, emotionally and mentally healthy and I will do what needs to be done to make it so.  You can’t keep all that’s happened to you bottled up inside; it will destroy you.  You have to speak to _someone.”_

“Raymond, why do you care?  I don’t understand you. You did not know me and you saved me, killed for me and yet you want nothing from me.  _Why?_ Why would you do that?”

“I did it because I’m a human being who saw another human being treated worse than any animal and I could do something about it.  That’s all.”

Sure enough, that Monday came and Dembe began seeing strangers coming to speak to Raymond.  His home schooling continued as per usual so he had no idea what Red was saying to them, but for two weeks, people came to meet with Red.  
  
One morning, Mr. Kaplan arrived and had breakfast with them.  He liked Mr. Kaplan, but he didn’t quite understand her. She dressed rather severely in pants and skirt suits and never seemed to smile, but she always spoke kindly to him and occasionally would bring him books she thought would interest him.  After they finished eating, he prepared to go to his classroom and she and Red headed to his office.

For most of that week, fewer people came to talk to Raymond and Mr. Kaplan, but the ones that he saw, he realized they been there previously.

Friday morning arrived and when Dembe came down for breakfast, only Raymond sat at the table drinking coffee.  “Good morning, Raymond,” he said as he sat down. “Thank you,” he said softly to the cook who placed a plate of oatmeal in front of him.  He knew she would return shortly with platters of eggs, waffles, beef sausages for him and pork for Raymond.

“Good morning.  I’ve cancelled your morning classes, Dembe. Mr. Kaplan and I have narrowed down the candidates for your therapist to eight.  I’d like you to meet four of them this morning.”

“Alone?”  He still did not feel comfortable being among strangers without Raymond.

“No, I’ll be there unless or until you want me to leave.  The most important thing is that you are comfortable being around your therapist and speaking to him. Mr. Kaplan and I did interview several women, but considering the things we think you need to speak about, we thought a man would be best.”

“What if I don’t like any of them?”

“We’ll schedule the remaining four for next week.  And if you don’t like any of _them,_ we’ll start the process all over again.”

“Because you want me healthy?”

“Because I _need_ you healthy.  Your wellbeing concerns me greatly.”

_Present Day_

Dembe startled as he heard someone enter the room.  “It’s just me,” Red said as he came to sit across from the younger man. “You looked like you were far away.  Where were you?”

Slightly embarrassed, Dembe mumbled, “I was thinking of when we were first in England.”

“Ah.  Those were interesting times, indeed.” Both men looked over at Mr. Kaplan as she entered the room.  “Kate was there, too.  What were you thinking about?”

“When we chose my first therapist.”

Kate was about to pour herself a cup of tea, but when she heard that, she reached for the scotch.  “Those _were_ interesting times, my friend.  Raymond was as nervous as a cat.”

Dembe looked at Raymond and then back at her.  “And why was that?”

“Because,” Red said as he motioned to Kate to fix him a drink, too, “It had been a long time since I had been responsible for the wellbeing of a minor and I didn’t want to screw it up.  _So_ much was at stake.  Your formative years were spent as a sex slave.  _Nothing_ had been normal for you.  I needed to make sure that you were able to develop into the man you were meant to be.”

“Is that why my religious training was in Islam instead of Christianity?”

“Yes.  I didn’t care if you were religious or not, straight or gay, zealot or pacifist. I just wanted you to be you.  That’s why I paid for all of your therapy.”

Kate sipped her drink and smiled.  “Dear Dembe, I can tell you Red was adamant that you grow into your own man. Only once did any of your decisions upset him and that was when you decided to go to Africa to be a freedom fighter.  He cried for a week.”

Raymond stiffened.  “I did not!” he protested, “I admit, I wasn’t happy, but I was accepting of your decision.”

Kate looked at Dembe and winked.  “Don’t believe it.”

“Raymond, this conversation brings me back to what I was thinking about earlier: Why did you care?  Obviously, I am grateful that you did, but why did you care? There were other children in that brothel, why me?”

Red took a deep draw of his scotch.  Coughing slightly at the taste, he used the time to contemplate his answer. Finally, he said, “Truth be told, I don’t _know_ why you.  I saw you and something tugged at my heart.  You were filthy, stank to high heaven and chained to a standpipe and I loved you.  And, I knew that if you came with me, I would take care of you.  I’ve never regretted doing what I did to set you free.”  He smiled as he looked into his drink.

Kate rolled her eyes.  “Oh for Pete’s sake, someone hug someone before I throw up!”

Laughing, Dembe rose from his seat and threw his arms around her.  “You do not fool me, Kate Kaplan! You are a dear friend to me.”  He moved to where Red sat and bent down to hug and kiss the second man to give him life.  “I do not say this often, but always remember this is true: I love you and I will always be loyal to you.”

“I know.”  
  
*This story takes place during Season I.  



End file.
